Debut Recording

Ever since pianist Georgijs Osokins’ unexpected but highly successful recital debut in Vancouver, I have often listened to and enjoyed his first commercial CD – Chopin – Late Works, Op. 57 – 61 (Piano Classics PCL0109). Hearing this recording confirmed and reinforced many of the impressions I formed while hearing Mr. Osokins’ live performance last season.

The recording begins with a ravishing account of Chopin’s Berceuse in D-flat major, Op. 57. In this miniature masterpiece, Chopin foreshadows the piano writing about half a century later in the works of Claude Debussy. In the “duet” within the right hand at mm. 7 to 15, Osokins plays the alto voice with a subtlety that really catches the listener’s attention. From m. 15 to m. 18, when Chopin “hides” the melody within the grace notes, there is a shimmering quality in the sound the pianist makes on the instrument. From the descending thirds at m. 31 to the chord series at m. 35, to the 32^nd note runs commencing at m. 37, Osokins’ pedaling creates a truly magical effect. Finally, at mm. 53 and 54, the artist plays the right hand triplets with such delicacy that it is breathtaking. All in all, a very promising start to this recorded recital.

In Osokins’ interpretation of the composer’s Sonata No. 3 in B minor, Op. 58, he employs quite a generous amount of rubato. But never do I feel that anything is unnatural or contrived. To be sure, this is an interpretation that is different from many I have heard, but it is not different for the sake of being different, or being clever. After the opening descending 16^th notes, Osokins manages to play the three appearances of the ascending chords (mm. 2 to 3, 6 to 7, and 10 to 11) each time differently. At m. 23 (to m. 27), his playing and pedaling of the left hand chromatic scales is nothing short of masterful.  Throughout the extended movement, Osokins manages to achieve great clarity in the Chopin’s complex contrapuntal thread. In the second movement, the pianist achieves a gossamer lightness with his quite incredible finger work. It is interesting that at the end of the scherzo, Osokins did not strictly observe Chopin’s ff marking, but he did at the end of the return of the scherzo after the trio, which makes for a more emphatic ending to the movement.

After the portentous opening to the third movement, Osokins plays the opening theme beautifully, but also rhythmically impeccably. At his recital last season, I was quite taken by his playing of the E major theme at m. 29. Well, his playing of the same theme here is just as captivating. The brief secondary melody in the left hand at m. 46, and again in m. 80, is beautifully realized. In the dolcissimo entry of the theme at m.99, now accompanied by triplets, Osokins injects the music with a different feeling than when it first appears at m. 4.

Osokins’ playing of the opening octaves of the 4^th movement creates a momentous feeling as well as one of suspense. The 16^th note runs starting at m. 76, marked leggiero by the composer, is played with an exquisite lightness that is exhilarating. Unlike many pianists, Osokins did not overdo the hairpins (crescendo and decrescendo) at mm. 189 to 190, but uses them to shape the right hand arpeggio. Throughout the movement, the listener feels a sense of unflagging energy, but never at the expense of the lightness the music calls for. What is rare, especially in an artist so young, is that there is always a sense that there is still reserved energy not yet unleashed. Moreover, even in the heat of the excitement, Osokins never creates an ugly sound. Everything is always musical. The coda was not rushed, but the buildup to the cataclysmic ending was incredibly effectively paced.

After the large canvas of the sonata, Osokins turns to the three Mazurkas, Op. 59. Musically, these are probably the most intricate music in the entire disc. The young artist successfully conveys the very individual character of each of the Mazurka, as well as the spirit of the dance. In Op. 59, No. 1, he serves as the listener’s guide through the complex contrapuntal web at mm. 42 to 50. The ending to the same Mazurka was extremely spacious; it is as if he is reluctant to let the music end. In Op. 59, No. 2, I was especially taken with how he successfully captures the lilt of the dance, and the way he plays the theme in the left hand at m. 69 is extremely striking. In Op. 59, No. 3, he achieves a magical moment in the key change from m. 44 to m. 45.

For me, the highlight of this outstanding recording is Osokin’s interpretation of the Barcarolle, Op. 60. The pianist successfully evokes the smoldering eroticism of Chopin’s score. Right at the outset of the work, in the left had “rowing” figures of the left hand, he creates a trance-like, almost hypnotic effect. At m. 14, in the right hand descending sixths, Osokins realizes to perfection Chopin’s leggiero marking. The same can be said about his interpretation of the composer’s sotto voce indication in m. 40, at the beginning of the A major section, creating a hushed quality in the music. At m. 61, with the right hand chordal theme, he balances each chord so meticulously and so perfectly, that the music really does float. One thing I noted from Osokins’ recital is his remarkable ability to create a liquid sound on the piano. Nowhere is this more apparent than in the rapid right hand runs starting at m. 78. In the coda, the left hand chords at mm. 113 and 114 are played so beautifully that it takes my attention away from the rapid passagework in the right hand. From first note to last, this is nothing short of a masterful interpretation of this miraculous work.

In the Polonaise-Fantasie, Op. 61, Osokins did not get carried away by the looseness of the work’s structure, but gives us a structurally sound, rhythmically tight reading of the piece. In the very difficult opening, I appreciate how he balances sound and silence. I was also taken with the way he plays the left hand octave triplets at mm. 10 and 11, making them sound like sudden outbursts of sound. At m. 181, he successfully conveys the heartbreak of this achingly beautiful melody, but he does not overdo it in its reappearance at m. 216. At the beginning of the coda (m. 254), Osokins did not strictly observe Chopin’s ff marking, but wisely allows the music to build.

After hearing these massive works, it seems a bit of an anti-climax to end the recital with the Souvenir de Paganini in A major, Op. Posth. That said, Osokins gives the music the same attention to details as he does to every work on this disc, lavishes his beautiful sound on every note and infuses the music with great charm and lightness.

In the 2015 International Chopin Competition in Warsaw, Osokins was deemed too controversial or unpredictable to have been awarded the top prize. I have now heard this disc half a dozen times, and my impression is one of a young artist giving us what he feels to be the way to interpret the music. Hearing his performances, I do not feel that he is out to seek attention, but is on a quest to seek the meaning of every piece of music he sets out to play.

Georgijs Osokins is an artist we should be watching and listening to very closely in the years to come.

An Unexpected Debut

It is easy to forget that musicians, like the rest of us, labour under vicissitudes of life such as illness or fatigue. When pianist Nelson Friere cancelled his North American tour on the advice of his physician, the Vancouver Chopin Society scrambled to find a suitable replacement for him. They, and we, the concert audience, were extremely fortunate to have been able to secure the services of Georgijs Osokins, a young Latvian pianist who created quite a stir at the 2015 International Chopin Competition in Warsaw.

In my thirty plus years of concert attendance in the wilds of Vancouver, I could count perhaps a handful of concerts where a young artist created an overwhelming first impression. After last evening’s performance, I am happy to add Mr. Osokins to that list.

Osokins began his performance with the very intimate Sonata in D minor, L. 108, by Domenico Scarlatti. With the first notes, I was immediately captivated by his crystalline sound, the range of colours, and the spaciousness of his playing. This young artist dared to take the time to allow the music to emerge, never was there a sense of anything forced or artificial. While his playing was filled with personality, there was always a feeling of naturalness in his music making. The audience must have felt it too, because there was no applause at the end to break the spell of the music, allowing him to launch immediately into his next piece.

It is perhaps a curious coincidence that Beethoven’s Sonata in A-flat major, Op. 110, had been part of at least half a dozen recitals in the last couple of seasons. Osokins’ interpretation was noteworthy, and could be counted as one of the most memorable. With the quiet opening chords of this great work, he immediately conjured up a reverential atmosphere that set the tone for the entire performance. His playing of that opening, with the sublime melody that emerges at m. 5, was richly detailed and intensely musical. I liked the clarity he achieved with his lightly pedaled and fleet fingered playing of the broken chord passage (m. 12 to 19). His tempo relationship between the first and second movement was, to me, most logical. He voiced the chords beautifully in the beginning of the second movement, and his timing of the left hand off beat notes in the middle section (m. 40 to 95) was impeccable, highlighting the quirky humour of the composer’s late works.

Osokins really got into and brought out the emotional core of the Adagio ma non troppo movement, no small achievement for a young artist. Once again, the reverential atmosphere returned with even greater intensity. Beethoven must have thought a great deal about this movement since, within a mere 26 measures, he lavished the music with more than a dozen tempo and interpretative markings. Osokins really conveyed through his playing the unbearable inner sorrow of the Arioso dolente theme (m. 9). In the concluding fuga, this artist seemed to be able to allow the music to emerge in layers, as if he was peeling off one layer of sound to reveal another. The clarity of lines he was able to achieve within this complex fugue reminded me of the playing of Glenn Gould. In this age when every young deemed himself or herself worthy of playing late Beethoven, it is not easy to find an interpretation that gives new meaning to this music, but he did on Thursday evening. Osokins made me feel that he was guiding us through an incredible journey of sound, and succeeded in letting us hear this familiar music with freshness and incredible musicality.

The intimacy of the recital’s first half continued with Sergei Rachmaninoff’s Prelude in G major, Op. 32, No. 5. In conversation with Mr. Osokins the day after his recital, I discovered that Rachmaninoff is this young man’s pianistic hero. His playing of this prelude certainly showed the extent of his affection for the composer’s music as well. He played the melody with a gorgeous liquid sound, and he somehow made the music float into our ears. The timing of the return to the main theme at m. 28 was impeccable, and he infused this return of the opening theme with even greater beauty and meaning.

Before the interval, Osokins concluded with Alexander Scriabin’s Sonata No. 9, Op. 68, “Black Mass”. Once again, it was a masterful performance of this complex score, and he brought out the kaleidoscopic range of sound colours called for by the composer, as well as the sinister atmosphere that pervades throughout.

From the little bit that I read about Georgijs Osokins, he was deemed too much of a revolutionary to have won the top prizes at the Chopin competition. Yet, throughout the evening, I never once felt that his interpretations were in any way idiosyncratic. Original and full of personality, to be sure, but never did I feel that he was trying to play differently for the sake of being different. His playing of the Chopin’s magnificent Barcarolle, Op. 60, is a case in point. It was a performance that was richly varied in terms of texture and articulation. And the rower of this boat allowed himself to be carried by the waves of the water, and the music ebbed and flowed along with it. In his Chopin playing, Osokins highlighted for me the beauty of his writing for the left hand. I noticed this particularly in the brief passage beginning at m. 78 that leads up to the double trill at m. 84, as well as the left hand chords leading up to the end of the work at m. 113 to 114. Overall, it was an interpretation that was spacious, yet with a keen sense of direction as well as a strong sense of the rhythm.

With Chopin’s music, it is all too easy to be reveling in the beautiful sound world, and losing track of the structural integrity of the work’s design. In Osokins’ Chopin playing last night, I felt that in spite of the beauty of the music, the sense of architecture, of logic, was never lost.

This was especially apparent in Osokins’ masterful interpretation of Chopin’s Sonata No. 3 in B minor, Op. 58. In his playing of the sprawling first movement, there was clarity of texture and a palpable sense of an awareness of the structure of the music. As I said earlier, he never allowed the beauty of the music to overshadow its logic. His playing of the scherzo was truly breathtaking, with a beguiling lightness of touch, and a clear display of his awesome pianistic ability. The largo movement was infused with a quiet dignity and a mesmerizing beauty of sound. I felt that the E major section (m. 29) had a special glow to it, almost as if a bright light was shining upon a beautiful diamond. Osokins’ stunning playing of the final movement had a relentless quality to the music, partly achieved by his sense of rhythm in the left hand. From the opening octaves to the build-up toward the triumphant ending, there was never any doubt in my mind that I was witnessing an amazing musical mind at work here.

Under the enthusiastic urging of the audience, Osokins launched into one of two encores, the work that most people associate with Chopin – the Polonaise in A-flat major, Op. 53. There was a real sense of drive in his interpretation of this justifiably famous work, but balanced by a lightness and a real feeling for the spirit of the dance. In the famous octave B section, Osokins did not, like many other young keyboard demons, get carried away with excessive speed, but managed to convey a real sense of mounting excitement. It is not how I think of the work, but his viewpoint of this iconic work was both valid and interesting.

The artist once again demonstrated his understanding of and affinity for the Rachmaninoff idiom in his second encore, the Prelude in G-sharp minor, Op. 32, No. 12. Right from the shimmering right hand broken chords at the beginning, Osokins revealed to us the subtle beauty of this oft-played work. In the return of the theme, now in open chords, at m. 35, there was an even greater feeling of bleakness in his playing. With the ascending right hand notes, where the music floats away into nothingness, we came to the end of an unforgettable musical journey.

In conversation with Mr. Osokins, I find him to be a young man with definite ideas about music as well as what it is to be a musician, and artist. He has a deep knowledge of the piano literature as well as our heritage of great pianists from the past. He hails from a family of pianists, and told me that he literally grew up “under the piano”, listening to his father’s playing. His brother is also a pianist who has distinguished himself in international competitions, and is currently living in London. We also spoke of his experiences in the 2015 Chopin Competition in Warsaw, and the challenges and intense pressure he faced during those weeks. During that time, he developed a rapport and friendship with Canadian pianist Charles Richard-Hamelin, silver medalist in the competition, who will be playing in Vancouver this coming November.

I asked him if he sometimes feel lonely when he is touring. He said that he loves to travel and to visit new places, and does not mind being alone, since it gives him time to think. The distinguished pianist and teacher Gary Graffman said that he found it strange when someone tells him that he or she wants to become a concert pianist. He said that one can study to become a pianist, or a musician, but to be a concert pianist entails being asked to give concerts. If Thursday night’s concert was any indication, he should be well on his way to becoming a “concert pianist”.

As much as I would have loved to have heard Mr. Freire, we can now claimed that we were at the Canadian debut of Georgijs Osokins. On top of his limitless pianistic ability, Mr. Osokins has a fertile musical mind that lets him make anything he plays at least interesting and worth hearing. I think we have not heard the last of Mr. Osokins, and I will be watching his continuing musical development with intense interest.